Begin Again
by Mr Imagination
Summary: This is a story of disaster and recovery. In the fast paced world that is pop music, will monumental loss, destroy or make stronger, the biggest pop band of the day?
1. Intro

THE DISCLAIMER!

This is a story written using DISNEY's modification of MR. HUGHES' original characters. Nothing other than the plot is mine. I just 'borrowed' the characters for the purpose of entertaining some folks... *grins*

* * *

*NOTE*

It has been suggested I need to point out that the stories I've posted/am posting are sequential. While each one may be a pretty good story by itself, they'll make much more sense if you read them in order.

1. Begin Again  
2. Journeys End  
3. In the End  
4. All About The Music  
5. Where We Want To Be

* * *

**Lemonade Mouth**

_**Begin Again**_

"You're the lead singer of the new band, right?  
How about you just belt one out for us…"

_~Ray Beech_

* * *

_This is a story of disaster and recovery._

_In the fast paced world that is pop music, will monumental loss _  
_destroy, or make stronger, the biggest pop band of the day?_

_Can these five special people recover their friendships, as well _  
_as their place in the music world?_

* * *

So... some of you are going to recognize this story - PLEASE, before you chastise me, go read my bio here so you will understand what's going on.

No... I didn't 'swipe' it! ***laughs***

Anyhow... enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1

_**one**_

**prologue**

_What is that smell?_ More importantly, why do I smell it? Oh yeah… the windows are down… I remember. Wait… why are my eyes closed? My eyes are closed? What the…

The moment my eyes open and focus, I panic. I'm not in my Jeep. This can't be. I was driving up US 395 – going home. Charlie called… and Wen. We talked… about the show…

I force my eyes to blink… once, twice.

_Oh crap_… I'm in a hospital room. What the…?

At least that explains the smell.

I'd been thinking about Olivia… that's right… her voice coming out of the Jeep's speakers. She's singing… _'we'll always be more than a band…_'

I blink my eyes again. They seem to be working okay. Fingers. I wiggle each of them. They all seem to be there. I do the same with my toes, with the same result. The moment I try to move, I hear a voice to my left – it says my name. As I turn my head that direction – with much effort I should add – I see her, standing there with a pony-tail and a huge frown.

"_Olivia? _What the…"

Now… in order to explain to you why finding Olivia White standing next to my bed in a hospital, totally freaked me out, we'll have to go back a day – to yesterday morning, in Los Angeles…


	3. Chapter 2

_**two**_

**the interview**

A recorded program is playing on a large plasma monitor. It appears to be an interview involving a group of kids. Within seconds, the kids move from their seats to some musical instruments, and begin to play. As the performance continues, the camera shot changes to a close-up of a female TV show host.

"Welcome to The Music Scene. I'm Moxie Morris – your host for all things musical. What you just saw during our opening, was a recording of my last interview with music sensation Lemonade Mouth, nineteen months ago, at the start of their first world tour. The day before that interview, their debut album went multi-platinum a second time, breaking the three million mark, and their digitally released singles _Somebody_ and _Determinate_, were both multi-platinum, each having been downloaded well over two million times.

"Since then, as the world knows, in addition to selling out every live show they performed, and rocking countries around the world, the members of Lemonade Mouth, suffered a number of frustrating, and in some cases heartrending, complications and setbacks in their lives as musicians, which inevitably led to their breakup last year."

A voice is heard out of the camera's view, and the camera operator quickly adjusts the shot to include a young woman sitting across from Moxie.

"Uh… excuse me, Moxie, but can I interrupt for just one second?"

"Of course."

"For the record, Lemonade Mouth didn't 'breakup'. That was all 'media fabrication'. The term 'breakup' is way too negative, and doesn't give a true account of what really happened. Generally speaking, when people 'breakup', it isn't pleasant or friendly. For the record, Lemonade Mouth _'disbanded'_ – by mutual agreement. I apologize for butting in…"

"Music fans, meet Stella Yamada, original lead guitarist for, and founder of, Lemonade Mouth. That isn't the introduction I envisioned, but it works. Stella graciously agreed to come and spend an hour talking with me about the band's meteoric rise to stardom, and their ensuing collapse, as they were individually bombarded with one personal disaster after another, during what would have been their nine month maiden tour."

Moxie turns away from the camera, and faces Stella.

"Welcome, Stella, and thank you for your willingness to share your story with our viewers."

"Thanks for giving me – or _us_ actually – the chance to tell the world our story. I have been in contact with everyone in the band – well, almost everyone – and they agree that the real story needs to be told. Over the last year and a half, there has been a lot of supposition generated about the members of the band, and in most cases, the press and the tabloids got it wrong. I'm here to answer your questions honestly, and to tell our fans what really happened to Lemonade Mouth."

"Okay. Where should we begin? How about with Mo? It was her illness in Germany that started the sequence of events that would eventually bring the tour to a halt, right?"

"Yes, it was. She's given me permission to share the nature of her medical condition. She suffers from Type 2 Brittle asthma, which apparently didn't really become a problem for her until high school. Most of our early fans will remember that she was quite sick and coughing when we tried to perform at Rising Star – what seems like forever ago. She had ongoing problems with it during our first few shows – Good Morning America and at the VMA's – but being the dedicated musician she is, she refused to give into it, or tell us what was going on."

"Yes, there have been many commentaries and far too much speculation as to what happened that night…"

A new video of Lemonade Mouth in concert begins to play on the large monitor and the image freezes when Mo collapses, her bass guitar still around her shoulders.

"Unfortunately," Stella continues, "what the world got to watch when she collapsed on stage in Berlin was her enduring what the doctors called a 'spontaneous pneumothorax'. Because she kept going, instead of telling us there was a problem, it caused her lung to collapse."

The image on the monitor changes to one of Mo on a stretcher, her cheeks cover with tears and her face contorted in pain, being put into an ambulance.

"Fortunately, her parents knew she had medical issues, and just how hard-headed the girl is, so they had a specialist standing by. Because she was still a 'minor', the hospital was forced to guard her secret as well. Mo ended up hospitalized for a week and then came back to the States, with her parents, to recover. That was also the last time she was onstage with Lemonade Mouth."

"And, as the world saw…"

The large monitor comes back to life, displaying a different image of Lemonade Mouth in concert – with Mo obviously absent from the stage.

"…Lemonade Mouth went on without her."

"Yes, for a while we did. We had to – due to contract issues. Besides, Mo insisted. I went back to playing lead, and Scott took over Mo's bass duties. It was a struggle for all of us, mostly because without Mo, it just didn't seem right – it didn't seem like Lemonade Mouth. But we kept going. Once we explained what happened, most fans seemed to understand. Our fans are the best…"

"Okay, so…"

A map of Europe appears on the giant monitor, and as they are mentioned, lines appear between cities.

"…you went from Berlin to Amsterdam…"

"Yeah, that was the last image you showed us. The first show without Mo and the most difficult."

"Then on to Zurich – and I should mentioned it was one of the cities where you guys were so popular, two shows were needed."

Stella smiles.

"Then, to Paris. Here's where one of the infamous 'questions' comes up."

"Did Scott fly home between the Zurich and Paris shows?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yes he did. The promoter and our agent got together and chartered a jet and sent him back on the premise he'd be back in time for the Paris show. He left right after the Zurich show, flew overnight and arrived the next morning. He was there for twenty-four hours, then flew back and met us in Paris."

"So, next question…"

Stella again smiles, and then interrupts her.

"Why?"

"Uh-huh. Although we all suspected that…"

"Yes. They were involved – since high school. The fact everyone wanted to make such a big deal out of it was the reason they tried to keep it to themselves. Well… that and Mo's dad wasn't crazy about the idea. We – meaning the band – all understood, and did our best to cover them."

"Well, Stella, the world knows the two of them are no longer a 'couple'. Is this something you are willing to discuss?"

"They told me I could share whatever I wanted – give up all our secrets so to speak. Because the decision has been left to me, I've chosen to leave certain things in our private lives – private. There is some stuff the public simply doesn't need to know about."

"Fair enough. Let's move on. Tell us about the first concert in London and what happened with Charlie."

"He melted down. Simple as that. Although they really are friends, he and Scott have always had this small wedge between them…"

"…named Mo?"

Stella laughs.

"Yeah, named Mo. Charlie is the kind of guy who has a terrible time with change, and letting go of things. He took it the hardest when Lemonade Mouth finally conceded defeat and we disbanded. He knew why Scott flew home, and it kept eating at him. When the reporter asked his question, Charlie finally vented. We've all done it at one point or another in our lives – Charlie's meltdown just happened to be public. Hazards of being famous I suppose…"

Moxie shuffles some papers and continues.

"According to records, Charlie publically apologized to the reporter, as well as to all your fans, and you guys managed yet another monster performance the following night."

"Yep. Unbeknownst to the world, just before the second London show, Charlie and Scott made peace with each other. To this day, no one knows what they said to each other – in fact, when we found out they were in the same dressing room together, thirty minutes before the show, we almost panicked. Olivia actually started to cry. Fifteen minutes before show time, they came out, hugged each other, looked at Wen, Olivia, me, and our road producer, and said 'Let's go out there and kick their as...' …oops, I mean butts. Sorry."

Moxie laughs, and pulls a sheet of paper out of the stack on her lap.

"Even Rolling Stone said – and I am quoting – _'…by far the most powerful show to date, for the phenomenon the world is calling Lemonade Mouth'_."

"I agree. And in truth, the only way we could ever top that show, would be with Mo."

Moxie turns to face the nearest camera.

"We have to take a break, but stick with us as we continue to explore 'the phenomenon the world _called_ Lemonade Mouth'."

The director yells "And we are out! Ninety seconds people."

Moxie turns to face Stella.

"We – but me most of all – were all seriously shocked when you called, Stella. Under the circumstances, I think it's one of the boldest things I've ever seen a group of young performers do – willingly sharing the secrets of their lives like this."

"So many people supported us while we were 'riding the wave', so we decided – as a band – that it was only fair we come clean with them. All of them. Even though we don't think our lives are all that important, there are some fans out there that apparently do."

"The rest of this," Moxie says, holding up the pages that are in her lap, "is going to be… well…"

"Yeah, I know. And it's cool… honest. You ask, I'll answer as best I can."

"THIRTY SECONDS!" is heard through the studio speakers and once again the entire set goes quiet.

Moxie stands up, steps over to Stella, leans over and gives her a hug.

"You are, in your own way, a very amazing young woman, Stella Yamada."

"I'll second that," the nearest camera man offers, smiling and winking.

"FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…"


	4. Chapter 3

_**three**_

**realization**

I'm sitting on a stool at my kitchen counter, scratching Jasper – she's the cat Wen gave me after Nancy died – behind the ears, and listening to Stella's interview, which is on TV in the living room.

It probably wasn't fair to ignore Stella when she tried to talk to me about doing the interview, but she and I got pretty close after we lost Mo on tour, and I somehow knew that she would interpret my silence as 'permission' – not that she technically needs it.

Anyhow, the music world pretty much put Lemonade Mouth on the back burner when I 'slipped into oblivion' well over a year ago. For months after I disappeared from the tour, the press spent a lot of time discussing my various 'mental states'.

You see, right in the middle of our tour, God took Grams.

At the time, the general consensus within the press seemed to be, the loss of my grandmother had somehow made me 'crazy'.

Yeah… okay. Gotta love tabloids.

So, here's the thing…

Now that the dust has settled, my friends have taken the position that I'm probably _afraid_ to sing again, because I haven't in so long. During our few, brief, conversations, Wendell _always_ asks the same question – _'have you exercised those vocal chords lately?'_ – and each time, the only response I give him, is a strange look.

Truth is, I didn't _want_ to sing. The night I lost Grams, I also lost the desire to share my voice. I felt that the trade-off of having the gift of a voice wasn't equal to the price required – giving up my family. And… if I couldn't have my family, I simply wasn't going to share my gift anymore.

Yes, I was very, very angry, and felt that I had somehow, been cheated.

But something inside me (I like to call it 'destiny') kept pushing and pushing, and after six months, I realized the anger was gone. It was replaced by fear, uncertainty, and the knowledge that my 'gift' was all I had left.

So, I started singing again – to Jasper. She's my 'audience of one'.

As I sit here, listening to Moxie Morris welcome her viewers back, I know deep down, that fate and destiny are once again about to stick their big noses back into my life – _into all our lives_ – just like they did years ago in a detention room, in the basement of a high school.


	5. Chapter 4

_**four**_

**the interview**

"Welcome back," Moxie says, taking her seat and again facing Stella. "For those of you just joining us, Stella Yamada, original lead guitarist for Lemonade Mouth, is here today talking with me about Lemonade Mouth's rise and fall. So Stella, having lived it yourself, I don't need to tell you that the next part of this outline I was given, truly astounded me. You ready to discuss what was described by most news agencies at the time, as _'the total collapse of the year's best new band'_?"

"Sure. Most of the world is aware that Olivia has sort of become a recluse. When I said earlier that I'd spoken to 'almost everyone' it was a reference to not having talked to Olivia."

"I think the biggest question about Olivia is – was her withdrawal due to the loss of her grandmother, or her breakup with Wen?"

"Actually, Moxie, neither of those is a good explanation of what happened to Olivia White. If any member of the band had a legitimate reason to bail, it was Olivia – and none of us would have blamed her. But disbanding wasn't her idea. Olivia's story – as best I know it – is actually a very sad one."

Stella stops for a moment, picks up a bottle of water next to her, uncaps it and takes a long slow drink. After couple seconds of contemplation, she sets the bottle and cap on the table next to her, and turns back to face Moxie.

"Yes, she and Wendell were a couple, and I believe it was good for both of them. She gave Wen purpose, and he gave her direction. Together they were an unstoppable writing team, and were in fact, the core of Lemonade Mouth's music. Anyhow, as you know, when Olivia's grandmother passed, it went public – and yes, Olivia went completely to pieces emotionally. Thing is, no one knew the real reason."

"So there were mitigating circumstances?"

"Yeah. One really big one actually. One that she had to make herself share with us – meaning the members of the band."

"You've mentioned twice now, that you haven't been in contact with Olivia recently…"

"In close to a year actually. Wen is the only one she talks to even semi-regularly."

"Are you certain that what you are about to tell us, is something she wants out there? The last thing I want to do on this show, is cause anyone undue stress, by invading their privacy. That's not what I'm about."

"No one in the band can answer that question – except Olivia. Wen told her what I planned to do, but she gave him no response. While she didn't give me permission to discuss this, she didn't say I couldn't either. I guess it comes down to how I chose to interpret her silence. But the rest of the band – me included – feel we need to set the record straight and make sure the world knows there are real and very sincere reasons for her behavior. She isn't crazy – which is what some of the tabloids want everyone to believe."

"Well, go ahead then, Stella. Tell us."

"We were nearing the end of the tour – only eight shows left. We managed to trudge through without Mo, and our fans responded so positively that we couldn't have stopped. That's when Olivia finally got us together – me, Wen, Charlie, and Scott – and told what had happened. You see, Moxie, only a month before Grams died, so did her father."

The entire set becomes eerily quiet, and Moxie turns an interesting shade of pale.

"Her… _father_?" Moxie almost forces out.

"Yes. That's what the world never knew. When all of you – meaning reporters and tabloid hounds – assumed that her grandmother raised her because _both_ of her parents were killed in an accident, she found it easier not to correct you. Only her mother died when she was young."

"But… she lived with… where was…" Moxie mumbles, visibly confused.

"Yes, she lived with her grandmother – since she was five. Would you like to know why?"

"This is going beyond what the producers prepared me for, Stella. Before you go any further, there is something I personally need to do."

"Sure."

Moxie turns and looks directly at the camera nearest her, takes a deep breath, and says, "Olivia, if you are out there, and are by chance watching this, please… please, call the studio and tell us if you want this out there. I don't know what it may be…"

In the middle of her speech, the terse silence of the studio is suddenly pierced by a strange ringtone, and everyone starts checking their cell phones – assuming they had forgotten to silence theirs. Stella, immediately recognizing the ring, knows it is hers.

"It's mine, everyone," Stella says. "I'm sorry – I forgot to turn it off." She stands and looks at one of the stage hands, and asks, "Do you know what they did with my backpack? I laid it over there."

A young girl comes across the room, the ringing backpack in her hands. Everyone is so caught up in the moment, that no one thinks to go to break, and the cameras keep rolling – _live_. Stella digs out her phone and after glancing at the caller ID, shrugs and flips it open.

Destiny and fate – the two things that brought them all together the first time, years ago, is again about to step in.

"This is Stella."

With the whole world – or at least the greater metropolitan Los Angeles area – watching live, Stella hears the one thing that can freak her out.

"Wow… you _are_ watching. How freakin' weird is that? Are you sure, Olivia? Okay… if you're sure. Will you call me back later this evening? Okay. Talk to you later… I hope. Bye."


	6. Chapter 5

_**five**_

**acceptance**

The moment Stella tells them about my dad, I know what needs to be done. I owe her at least that much. I can only imagine how much stress she's under at this exact moment – knowing she agreed to tell the entire truth, about all of us.

I grab my phone, and autodial Stella, as I walked into the living room and plop down on the couch. I actually laugh as I watch the confusion my call creates on the set. 'Strange' I think to myself, just as Stella answers, 'no one thought to go to commercial?'

"This is Stella."

"It's me Stel…"

"Wow… you _are_ watching. How freakin' weird is that?"

"Not very, if you think about it. You're about to give away all of our secrets – no way would I miss that," I quickly reply. "And, just for the record, you can tell them whatever you want."

"Are you sure, Olivia?"

"Yeah, Stella… I am. It's probably time."

"Okay… if you're sure."

"I am. And I'm watching too – so keep that in mind."

"Will you call me back later this evening?"

"We'll see… one step at a time."

"Okay. Talk to you later… I hope. Bye."

"Bye."

In that very moment, I feel some kind of strange release – as if everything that's been complicating my existence for the last two years suddenly evaporates. I lay the phone on the table, let Jasper jump into my lap, and turn my attention to the TV…


	7. Chapter 6

_**six**_

**the interview**

As Stella closes her phone and turns around, it dawns on her that she is now the center of attention in the studio. She smiles, shakes her head, walks back over to the set and takes her seat.

"Let me guess…" Stella says, nodding at the camera nearest them, "live means _live_?"

"Uhh…"

"Doesn't matter. This whole thing was about the truth anyhow, right?"

Moxie nods her agreement.

"Well, as you all just heard, I got permission from the last remaining member of Lemonade Mouth, to finish this story. You ready?"

Silence. It's as if none of them – least of all Moxie Morris – can believe what is happening, let alone that it is happening live in front of them.

"Olivia's dad was in prison. She told us about it a month after we met – on the day her cat Nancy died. As she put it to us that day, _'…he made a lot of bad choice since her mother died, and ended up doing a really dumb thing.'_ The price he had to pay for his error was fifteen years in prison."

Stella reaches to her side, picks up her bottle of water and again takes a sip from it. Then, with a big grin, she points at a guy who is frantically waving his arms and looks like he might faint any moment.

"Moxie, I think your producer is trying to get your attention."

Moxie turns and after a quick glance at the arm-waving guy, realizes what is going on, and turns back to the camera.

"Well… Stella is right. We need to take a break – and after that last revelation, I know I can use one. Stick with us, we'll be right back."

"And we are out – _finally_! Ninety seconds people."

"Was that really her – really Olivia – that called?"

"Yeah, it was. Fate, destiny, karma. Maybe all of them combined. Years ago, Ms Reznick said it was destiny that brought us together that day in detention. And if you think about, how else can you explain five totally different kids, all musically inclined, ending up alone in detention at the same time?"

Stella lifts the bottle and takes another sip.

"And… how do we explain this? Not peep out of her for close to a year, yet for some unexplained reason, she _is_ watching this, and realizing what I am about to do, calls me. I mean, whose idea was it to do this live – instead of taping it?"

"THIRTY SECONDS!" rings out across the studio.

After a third sip from the bottle, Stella caps it and sets it back down on the table.

"This all means something Moxie, I just not sure what yet. You ready to finish this?"

"Uh… yeah… I suppose. I'm so overwhelmed at the moment, Stella, that it may as well be your show at this point."

Stella laughs just as the stage manager starts counting.

"FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…"

"Welcome back to the strangest show I have so far hosted. I'm not sure about the rest of you, but in the last thirty minutes, my entire concept and image of Lemonade Mouth has been changed. So many revelations… so quickly."

"So," Stella says, pulling her feet up under her in the chair, her attitude and demeanor seeming to change, "call it quits, or finish the story?"

"The floor is yours, young lady."

"I'll finish with Olivia's story, and then tell you what we have each been doing since we let Lemonade Mouth go, a year ago. Fair?"

"Perfect!" Moxie replies.

"Well, as I said, Olivia's dad was killed – in prison. It wasn't some kind of horrific prison attack or anything – it was just a dumb accident. It happened the day we played our last US concert in Seattle, although none of us knew it. Richard – our manager – snuck up to Olivia's room after the show, and privately gave her a sealed letter than had been over-nighted to her by Grams. Not even he knew what was in it, but he assumed it was bad news of some kind. She waited until he was gone before reading it, and for whatever reason, decided to keep her dad's death to herself. The next day, we flew to Rome and started the European leg of our tour, and seeing Olivia, you wouldn't have known anything was wrong. She was the gung-ho, hell-bent, front-man for Lemonade Mouth, and nothing was going to change that. For the next thirty-one days, she kept the tour rolling, night after night, show after show."

Stella again stops talking, and sits quietly staring off into the darkness of the studio. It's apparent she is remembering… After about fifteen seconds, her gaze still locked on the darkness, she continues.

"We were backstage in Madrid when the news about Grams reached us. Why Richard didn't wait until the show was over to give Olivia the message, will always be a mystery. Anyhow, we all stood and watched Olivia read the message my mom sent her, waiting for her to faint, or cry… or something. Instead, the girl forced a smile, looked right at us and said, 'Let's go guys – they've made enough noise that we owe them an encore, right?' Believe it or not, Olivia sang Breakthrough with more passion that night, than she ever had. It was amazing…"

As Stella again reaches for her water, Moxie shuffles through her stack of pages, and pulls out another single page.

"I'm going to read the statement issued by Rolling Stone concert reporter Randy Rogers the same night you guys did that show…

'…_and tonight I saw what I believe was the best encore in the history of pop music encores. Having lost their bass player, vocalist, and good friend, Mo, five weeks ago in Berlin, Stella and Olivia have since then, been covering all her vocals – and according to fans I've spoken to, are doing a beautiful job of it. Tonight in Madrid, however, the band's front-man took over. As Wen Gifford played the intro to 'Breakthrough', Olivia White managed to quiet 30,000 screaming kids, long enough to tell them that her grandmother had passed away, and that their encore tonight was dedicated to her. Then, as the other members of Lemonade Mouth took turns hugging her, mic still in hand, Olivia added this – 'you all know the words to this song, so in memory of Grams, I hope all of you will sing with me…' That, readers, was all it took to create the greatest live performance of 'Breakthrough' there will ever be.'"_

Once Moxie finishes reading, she sits there, staring at the page in her hand, as if unsure what to say or do next. The eerie silence is eventually broken when Stella, whose face is still covered by a look of deep contemplation, takes a huge breath, turns and looks directly at the camera.

"Right here, on me, please. I need to be sure Olivia hears and understands what I am about to say."

The guy on the camera immediately complies with Stella's request – as if she is the director. The camera pans slightly, centers on her and then zooms to fill the screen with her face. The continuing silence is so acute, that the only sound heard is the hum of all the electronic equipment.

"Two years ago, Mo and I wrote a song, just to see if we could do it. It's a song that Lemonade Mouth never played live, and that was recorded only once, as an added track for the CD. It was our song – _the band's_. You know exactly what I'm talking about, Olivia. We've played it as a band only twice – the first time, under that tree in your backyard, and the second was in the studio the day we recorded it. The four of us – Mo included – want you to know that we are ready to meet you in Gram's backyard, under that same tree, and sing it again. We're just waiting for you to tell us you are ready."

When she finally stops talking, the tears on her cheeks are blatantly visible. She reaches for the water, uncaps it, and finishes what's in the bottle. With one hand she wipes the tears off her face and with the other, flings the empty bottle across the set, and laughs.

"Now, would you like to know about the rest of Lemonade Mouth?"

Moxie nods her agreement, without speaking.

"Wen is back in school, at UNM. He plans to major in music, but will also get his teaching degree. He's been helping our old music teacher, Ms Reznick – the woman who got us into all this – on a regular basis, when his class schedule permits. He's also been writing music for other artists, and for movies. Every so often our paths cross – usually when I need his help. I believe that in his heart, he hopes to one day recapture the magic he and Olivia shared – both emotionally, and professionally."

She hesitates for a second, then again turns to face the nearest camera.

"Yeah, Wendell, that's right… I said it. Sue me."

She stands up, and with a laugh asks, "Is there another bottle of water I can have?"

Within seconds, a number of full, cold, bottles of water sail onto the set, from different directions, forcing Stella to dodge them. She breaks up in laughter as she picks them up, knowing the crew had done it in an attempt to relax things. Once she has them all, she sets them on the table, and then takes her seat.

"As the world knows, Mo moved to England. Even before the tour crashed, her parents found a specialist there who agreed to work with Mo," she continues, opening one of the bottles, and taking a huge drink. "Shortly after we all got back here, Mo's father was offered a really good position over there, and he went to join his family. The doctors say that living in the country, on an island, is probably the best thing for Mo's medical issues for now. So, how weird is it that first, she struggled with her identity while growing up American, and now after only a couple of years, she's practically British! You should hear her talk – you'd think she was from England all along! She still loves music. She plays regularly with a small orchestra – the classical music she was playing when Wen and I originally hijacked her into Lemonade Mouth. She's also tried her hand at acting, as most Brits will know, turning up in a few episodes of their most popular daytime drama. And she isn't half bad if I do say so.

"Scott. Well… he couldn't live without rocking out. It's just in the guy's blood. When we finally threw in the towel, he went in search of a new band. It wasn't at all personal – the guy just _needed_ to make music. After months of drifting around LA, being unable to find anywhere he fit, he too, ended up back in Albuquerque. And, as a lot of people know, within weeks of getting home, he managed to reform our old nemesis, Mudslide Crush. Ray and Raul were going to UNM, and Scott has enrolled as well. They found a new drummer, and a management company, and have started playing gigs at smaller, more personal venues, when their school schedules permit. Time changes everything, and in some instances, can even heal old wounds. He and Ray are both different people now – better people. And, as hard as it is for me to admit, 'the Crush' has even used my facility – Discovery Studios – a couple of times.

"Charlie Delgado – the mad percussionist. He and I work together almost every day. And before you tabloid freaks get started, we are, and will always be, just really good friends. For lack of anything better to do at the time, and with Mr. Gifford's help, we invested some of our 'amassed fortune' and started Discovery Studios – a small set-up designed to help out kids like we once were. Curious and interested, but struggling, and without direction. To support what we do with the kids, we do a lot of session work, playing back up for some known, and some yet to be discovered artists, when they need us. We both still love to play, and even though a studio isn't a stage, it works for us. And let me point out that, although Scott and company did use the studio, I drew the line at playing back-up for them, on principle."

Her comment causes the studio to erupt in laughter.

"Music fans, the laughter you just heard was not an audience, as today this is a closed set. _That_…" Moxie says, fighting off a laugh, and shaking her head, "was the show's crew and support team."

"For the most part, Moxie," Stella continues, "the last year of our lives has been spent visiting high schools all over the country, talking to music teachers and students, and searching for the next Lemonade Mouth. Although we haven't found them yet, Charlie and I believe they're out there, somewhere, waiting for that one push. The same push Ms Reznick gave us, one day in detention."

Stella falls silent, appearing to be lost in thought. She reaches for one of the water bottles, and then changes her mind, setting it back down, and again looking at Moxie.

"So there you have it, Moxie – the truth about Lemonade Mouth, and where we are now. Not all that exciting, but at least it's all true."

"Amazing. Totally amazing. I feel honored that you chose my show to set the record straight, Stella. We need to take one last break, then, with your permission, the producer has agreed to let us take a few calls, to see what your fans have to say about all this. Music fans… please come back – you don't want to miss the end of this show."

"We're out! We over-shot, so this is a short one, people. Sixty seconds."

"Are you up to taking the calls, Stella? If you aren't we can always claim technical difficulties you know. I just wanted to get it out before the break so that if anyone did want to call, they would."

Stella is about to answer when a booming voice fills the entire studio.

"Jezzzz, Moxie, they've buried the switchboard!"

That is quickly followed by, "THIRTY SECONDS!"

Stella laughs, and with a smile says, "I guess the fans are deciding for me, Moxie. Let's do this!"

As the seconds tick down, a girl with a clipboard comes running across the studio, slides to a stop next to Moxie and, almost out of breath, hands her the pages on the clipboard. Moxie scans them, laughs, and hands the pages back.

"Care to guess what the BIG question is, Stella? What every person who has called so far has asked?"

"FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…"


	8. Chapter 7

_**seven**_

**acceptance**

The moment Stella mentions _More Than A Band_, I almost burst into tears. She's sending me a message – one that I need to pay attention to, and I know it.

Then, when Moxie mentions taking calls, I have the most insane idea, and know that if I can make myself do it, it will probably help Stella out, tremendously.

Even as the butterflies in my stomach take flight, I pick up my phone and dial the studio number, which has been scrolling across the bottom of the screen since they went to commercial.

Busy signal.

I sit staring blankly a car commercial, and after about thirty seconds, try again.

Same result – busy signal. Apparently, a lot of fans, have a lot to say.

I watch as the show returns from commercial, yet nothing happens. The camera is in a wide shot of Moxie and Stella doing nothing except staring at each other – silently.

"Well, Jasper, there's always more than one way to accomplish most tasks, and these two look like they need something to talk about…"

My heart now racing, I again, autodial Stella's number. It only takes her two rings.

"Yeah?"

"If you want some help, no questions asked, hand the phone to Moxie."

I hear her laugh, there's a brief silence, and then I hear Moxie.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Moxie... Guess who?"

"NO WAY!"

I laugh.

"I assure you it's me, and I have a proposition for you. Just listen for a moment. I'll give you one question on air, if you'll let me say something I think needs to be said. If you are up to this, hand the phone back to Stella and I will tell her what needs to be done. If not, then just hang up the phone and I'll understand. Either way, thanks for letting Stella share our story with the world."

The woman is so quiet, I find myself wondering if she's still breathing. The only way I can tell she's still with me, is because I'm watching her head go up and down, in a comical way, on TV. Then, without a word, I watch her hand the phone to Stella.

"Yeah?" Stella says.

"Lay the phone down, and put a mic next to it. She gets to ask me one question on-air, and then I get to say something."

"You got it."

"I figured you could use some help…"

"Under the circumstances, it can't hurt. And for the record, Olivia, you are – and always will be – our _only_ front-man."

I watch quietly, my heart now speeding out of control, as Stella does as I request, and once they're ready, speaks to Moxie.

"Okay, Moxie, go ahead, ask the same question you did during the break," Stella says.

Apparently, the question Moxie asked off-air is in fact, the one thing I want to talk about…

Once again, fate and destiny are playing with us.


	9. Chapter 8

_**eight**_

**the interview**

Moxie doesn't do the standard 'welcome back' intro this time. The whole interview has gone way past 'standard' at this point. Even though she knows the cameras are rolling, and it is a _live_ show, she just sits grinning at Stella, as if waiting for her to answer the question she posed off camera. Everyone in the studio is holding their collective breath, and you can feel the tension, when once again, that same bizarre ringtone breaks the silence. Stella and Moxie start laughing, as Stella reaches over, picks up her phone, answers it, and then promptly hands it to Moxie.

"It's for you this time."

Moxie reaches over, takes the phone, and places it to her ear.

"Hello? NO WAY!"

Moxie is so shocked that it takes every ounce of her willpower to maintain her composure. She sits there listening, her head going up and down as if in acknowledgement of what is being said, and finally, she pulls the phone from her ear and hands it back to Stella. Still smiling, Stella puts it to her ear.

"Yeah? You got it. Under the circumstances, it can't hurt. And for the record, Olivia, you are – and always will be – our _only_ front-man."

Stella turns and looks over at the nearest equipment person and says, "I need a mic, please?" Then she puts the phone on speaker, and lays it on the table next to her. Fifteen seconds later, there is a small wireless mic lying next to it.

"Okay, Moxie, go ahead, ask the same question you did during the break," Stella says, a devious grin covering her face.

"Music fans, I asked Stella if she knew what BIG question is occupying the minds of Lemonade Mouth's fans – the question that was asked by every single one of the first 100 people who called the studio line during the break."

A soft and slightly shaky voice is heard over the studio speakers, and on televisions around the world.

"They, and you too, Moxie, probably want to know if the five of us will ever be on stage together again."

"Yes, Olivia, that's the question. Will the _original members_ of Lemonade Mouth – those five kids from detention – ever play together again?"

"Well, Moxie, since this all started, I've learned a number of things that I wouldn't otherwise have. Ms Reznick taught me to believe in my destiny – to accept it, and to follow it. Wen taught me to have faith in myself. Stella, in her own weird way, taught me that it was okay to let out the inner me – to simply be Olivia. And Grams… well, she taught me that nothing is impossible. She always told me that things that might _seem_ impossible simply require more effort to accomplish. My answer to you – and to all the Lemonade Mouth fans – is this… _nothing is impossible, especially if you believe it can be done_. Moxie, I know you are probably over your show's time by now, but well… thanks for letting me say that."

"Crap! Are you kidding me?" Moxie suddenly blurts out, completely losing her composure. "Half the televisions in the country are tuned into this right now. Not even the network is foolish enough to…"

"AND WE ARE OUT! MAN… _what a show_!" comes blasting through the speakers, filling the studio, as the entire crew breaks into applause and cheers.


	10. Chapter 9

_**nine**_

**intent**

I'm halfway to Tahoe – where I now live – when my phone rings. A glance at the caller ID tells me who it is, and I hit the Bluetooth button on the Jeep's stereo.

"Hey, Charlie!"

Instead of Charlie's voice, I hear Wen.

"Back when I first met you, Stella, I knew you were crazy. It just took me some time find out how crazy…"

"YOU FREAKIN' ROCK, STEL!" I hear Charlie add, and realize they're conferencing.

"I'm confused guys, am I in trouble or what?"

"You were perfect, Stella. None of us could have handled that better," Wen replies.

"Wen wants us to fly over and visit next week," Charlie interjects.

"All these kids know about me… about us. After your little dissertation on TV, I'm hoping you guys will consider coming over – assuming your schedule allows – and speak at the school. You up for that?"

"I'm always up for visiting you, and Ms Reznick. When do we need to be there?"

"Say, Thursday next week? If you guys get a charter into Double Eagle, I can pick you up, and you can crash at my house if you want. I know my dad, Sydney, and Georgie would love to see you guys again."

"Well… considering my brothers have taken over my room at my parent's house, I might take you up on the lodging offer, but I think I'm going to make Charlie drive that expensive car of his over. It'll take us a full day, but I need some 'down time' anyhow."

"Wooo Hooo! Road trip!" we hear Charlie blurt out.

"Okay then… see you guys in a week. Drive safely, Charlie!"

"Wen… wait. What about…"

"I don't know Stel… I don't know. She isn't answering her phone, and although I thought about going over, I've learned it's usually best to just give her some time. I couldn't believe she actually called you, to be honest. We'll talk, and maybe go knock on her door, when you guys get here, okay?"

"Fair enough. But if you hear from her, you'd better call me…"

"I will. Later guys."

We hear him hang up, and I speak to Charlie.

"I'll be back in the studio around midnight. We don't have anything going on in the morning, so do you want to go to breakfast?"

"Sure. Call me when you are ready. Drive safe, Stella. Bye."

"Bye," I reply, then reach up and push the Bluetooth button, disconnecting the phone.

I have another two hours of driving ahead of me… and lots of time to think.


	11. Chapter 10

_**ten**_

**panic**

Being in the 'limelight' – even briefly – gave me a rush I haven't had since I ran away from the tour.

It takes a full hour for my heart to slow down again, during which time I do nothing but sit on the couch, and stare blankly at the TV… thinking.

Even though Wen called twice right after the show, I couldn't make myself answer. My heart and mind simply aren't ready for Wendell. Instead, my brain is filled with a single thought…

_What did I just start?_ More importantly, _why _did I start it?

Destiny?

I know for certain, it _needed_ to be done…

Feeling the need to write, I head for the basement, with Jasper following close behind. At around 1:00 AM, as I sit staring at a jumbled mess of blurry words on a page, the phone on the wall rings, and pretty much weirds me out. You see, the important people call my cell, which leaves no explanation for the house phone ringing – especially at one in the morning.

Even as an intense feeling of dread sweeps over me, a different feeling – one I can't even explain – makes me stand up, walk over and answer it.

"Hello?"

"Oh thank goodness! Someone answered. I'm sorry to wake you, but…"

The female voice at the other end goes on to explain that Stella wrecked her Jeep, and they're trying to locate her _'next of kin'_…

Uh-huh… you guessed it.

_I freak._

After a full minute of my uncontrolled sobbing, the lady – who is actually a nurse – manages to get me to listen again, and explains that Stella is fine. She apologizes for her choice of words, and then asks if I am _family_.

I think it's that single question that pulls me out of the dark hole I've been in, for over a year.

Like I keep saying… _fate and destiny_.

It seems they never do things the easy way.

I give the nurse the Yamada's home number, and she thanks me. I hang up and quickly dial Wen's cell phone. His groggy, still-asleep, voice answers on the second ring.

"_Olivia?_ Are you okay?"

"Sorta. But Stella isn't…" I reply.

It takes me ten minutes to explain it all to Wen, who then wakes up his dad and puts him on the phone. Mr. Gifford explains that he'll call Stella's parents, and will have his company jet go get her, first thing in the morning. He also subtly suggests I go get her – saying that a familiar face is important in situations like this.

Mr. Gifford is awesome… and has, in many ways, been my surrogate parent since I lost Grams.

At 9:00 AM the next morning, I walk into a hospital room to find a slightly bruised, and sound asleep Stella.


	12. Chapter 11

_**eleven**_

**the accident**

"Easy, Stella… deep breath," Olivia says, reaching out and taking my hand.

I force myself to relax, roll my head from side to side, taking in all my surroundings, then turn back to face Olivia – as my brain tries to process the question of her 'realness'.

"Why?" I mumble, indicating my surroundings.

"Deer. You need to stop driving these mountains late at night, Stella."

"Where?"

"Where did the deer end your trip, or where are you now?" she asks, actually smiling at me, which makes my heart race, and the heart monitor beep faster.

"Which hospital?"

"Carson Valley. You were unconscious after the accident and this is the nearest trauma center."

"Oh god… trauma center?"

"Relax, will you? The doctor says you'll be fine. Pretty sore for a few days, but fine. Your Jeep, however, is another story. I hope you aren't attached to it."

She smiles at me a second time, and somehow I know it's a sincere smile. Then, as my mind begins to clear, a thought occurs to me – well, a couple of them actually.

First… here she is, holding my hand, and anyone witnessing it, would never realize we haven't seen, or spoken to each other – with the exception of two phone calls – in over a year.

Second… although I know the first issue should concern me, it doesn't.

Third… even though I'm lying in a hospital bed, with no memory of how I got here, seeing Olivia White, standing there smiling, makes everything else seem totally irrelevant.

"Okay… and why are you here?" I ask, trying to mimic her intonations – as best I remember them. It's a game we all played while on tour, and it turns out I'm best at doing 'Olivia'.

"Because of that stupid little card you put in your wallet – behind your driver's license. You had the same one in your passport too, as I recall…"

She's making reference to Mr. Gifford's business card, which we all took with us when we went on tour – as a precaution. Wen's dad told us that if something completely bizarre and out of our control happened, we were to call him collect, and he'd fix it – immediately. Being the cocky brat I've always been, on the back of both of my cards, I wrote 'and call Grams too!' along with her phone number.

"No one answered Mr. Gifford's business phone, so the doctor called 'Grams'."

"I guess it's a good thing I'm abnormal and obnoxious, huh?"

"Fate and destiny, Stella…"

Olivia is interrupted by a doctor and a police officer as they enter the room.

"I see our 'famous' patient is awake," the guy in the white coat says, picking up my chart and looking at it.

"Oh jezzz…" I mumble without thinking about it, making Olivia laugh.

"Relax, Miss Yamada. No one except me, two nurses, and," he pauses and points at the guy in uniform, "the State Police, know who you are. The last thing we need is a bunch of crazed teenagers running around the building looking for you."

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, directing the question at the trooper.

"Oh no. I just wanted to check on you, having been the first one on the scene. The driver of the other vehicle involved, as well as one going south, gave us a full accounting of what happened. It was just one of those things, Miss Yamada – inevitable, if you will. Your Jeep – or what's left of it – is at the impound lot in Carson City. Once you feel up to it, you can go and get whatever you want out of it. We won't release it to the insurance company until you tell us to. And by the way, you should thank whoever made all the modifications to it – they are probably what let you walk away from this. If it had been a stock Jeep… well…"

"Thanks. I'll have a friend go and clean it out in the next few days."

With a smile, he turns and leaves. The doctor closes my chart, puts it back in its slot, and looks at me.

"I'm going to keep you one more day – just because. After that, you can go home as long as someone is there with you for a couple of days."

"I'm going to take her home with me. To Albuquerque."

"Huh?" I blurt out, turning to look at Olivia.

"Fair enough, Miss White," the doctor replies. "I'll see you again before you leave, Miss Yamada."

He turns and goes out the door.

"What do you mean, 'I'm taking her home with me'?" I ask, as she sits down on the edge of my bed.

"They called – at 1:00 AM I should point out – and I have no idea what made me pick up the phone. They told me what happened and that the number for Wen's dad – _the only number they could find_ – was being answer by a machine. Having found the number on the back of the card, they tried it. They asked if I knew how to contact your _'next of kin'_. I freaked, Stella… honest to God…"

I watch her face, fully understanding what she means. The last thing Olivia needs is to think someone else died…

"I called Wen," she continues, "His dad sent me here in his business jet this morning. It's at the airport in Reno waiting for us. He also called your parents. The deal is, I bring you back with me. Charlie packed some of your stuff – your guitar of course – and is already on his way there. And can you tell me why your parent's number is nowhere to be found in your wallet? I mean, come on, Stella…"

When she smiles, and again squeezes my hand, I find myself praying – mentally asking God if we can have Olivia back now. The Olivia we coerced into joining our band of misfits, at a table in Dante's. The Olivia, whose strength held us together as a band, after we lost Mo. The Olivia, who is – and always will be – our band's _only_ lead singer.

"It will be now…" I reply, making myself smile.

We sit there, staring at each other, both fully aware that our lives are once again, about to change. Neither of us has any idea how – but we know it's coming. After a few seconds of intense contemplation, I break the silence.

"_Fate and destiny_… As usual, you are so right, Olivia."


	13. Chapter 12

_**twelve**_

**the missing piece**

We've been in Albuquerque for a week, and I know that soon, we'll have to go back to our real lives – such that they are. My parents asked me to stay with them, but understand my need to stay with Olivia.

Every day I go on a trek around town, in an effort to work out the kinks every muscle in my body seem to have. A couple of times Charlie – who's staying with his parents – turns up to walk with me. We mostly talk about business – along with being the world's best drummer, the guy is an administrative genius, – and how we'll reschedule all the appointments we cancelled. He tells me that his parents expect me to make at least a limited appearance before we leave, and I suggest dinner, to which they agreed. The interesting thing is, not once does Charlie press me about Olivia – or what might be going on between us.

Truth is, there's nothing to tell. Although she welcomed me, and seems comfortable having me here, we don't communicate much. From the short conversations we do have, I can tell something is still gnawing at her – from inside. Question is… what?

I'm telling Olivia about the big dinner Charlie's parents are having, and that everyone – parents and siblings included – have agreed to come, when there's a knock at the door. In the five days I've been here, no one has come over – period. Now, it seems we have a visitor, and seeing the visible discomfort on Olivia's face, I stand up and head for the door.

"I'll see who it is. Do you want me to get rid of them?" I ask, as I reach for the handle.

Olivia never responds to my question, and five seconds later, I wouldn't have heard her if she did. When I open the door, there in front of me, stands none other than Mohini Banjaree – original bassist for Lemonade Mouth.

For the first time in her life, Stella Yamada, almost faints.

"Hi! I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd pop in for a visit. I'm not intruding, am I?" Mo blurts out, sounding _sooo_ British, I find it hard to believe she's the same girl who stood next to me on many a stage.

The moment she breaks eye contact with me, and shifts her gaze over my shoulder, I know. I step out of the way and watch as Mo comes in the door, and without a word, walks over to Olivia, and simply wraps her arms around her. Eventually I hear sobs – from both of them. Finally, Mo speaks…

"I'm so sorry, Olivia… sorry it has taken me a year and a half to do what should have been done immediately. I wanted to come back… to talk to you… to explain. At first, my body just wouldn't support the trip, and when it could, you'd pretty much made it clear you wanted your privacy."

They break their embrace, and Olivia takes a step back, but never lets go of Mo's hands.

"Every day since we moved," Mo continues, "I've played that song – the band's song. _Every day_. In my heart, I wondered about you… about the others… about the band. I know it's my fault…"

"No," I quickly interject, "it wasn't. It wasn't anyone's _'fault'_."

"It doesn't matter," Olivia adds, tears still trickling down her cheeks, but now smiling. "Destiny has been in control of all our lives from the moment we stepped into the detention room. It's responsible for everything that has happened right up to this moment – and for this moment as well. There are reasons, Mo, and maybe someday we'll figure them out. You'll see…"

She lets go of Mo's hands, wipes her face, and says, "I need a moment guys…" Then she turns and disappears through a small door I know leads to her basement. When the door clicks shut, Mo turns to face me.

"Now _that_ was totally weird."

"You have no idea, Mo… no idea. She's spent most of the last five days down there."

"'_Down there'?"_

"Yeah. It's her basement. I haven't been bold enough to go look, and I didn't want to press her – especially since she seems to be… well…"

"I get it. She'll tell us when she's ready, I'm sure."

"That's what I keep hoping. So, you up for a walk? I need to do my 'doctor ordered' exercise. It will give us a chance to catch up."

She smiles, wipes the remaining tears from her face, and says, "Sure, but slowly. This heat is already killing me."

We step out onto the porch, and as I close the door, a thought occurs to me.

"Does anyone else know you're here?"

"Only your mum. She picked me up. My bags are in their guest room."

"_My mom?_ She has something to do with you being here?"

Mo laughs, and finally hugs me.

"Yes. Although my parents were never crazy about the whole 'band' thing, they stayed in touch with the other parents. Believe it or not, my mum actually watched your interview. When she heard about your accident, she told papa that it was sign – and that it was important that I come back right away…"

Because I'm grinning like a fool, Mo stops talking and looks at me quizzically.

"_What?"_ she finally asks.

"Nothing… you just sound so… well, cool actually."

"Oh _please_…" she says, without any hint of her British accent."Anyhow, my mom's insistence that I come back right away, wore my father down, and he finally gave in and bought me a ticket. Even though he always appeared to be against the whole 'band' thing, I think he too, knew it was time."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It was nothing more than a 'feeling' that made me call Moxie about doing the interview. Olivia's 'fate and destiny' seem to be hard at work lately."

"Do you think maybe _she_ feels it as well?" Mo asks, her accent returning.

"We can hope, Mo… we can hope…"

We hug again, lock arms, and head off down the street, in the direction of downtown, at a reasonably slow pace. After about three blocks, I make an abrupt turn, and head in a different direction.

"Come on, Mo, let's go have a 'bit o fun' shall we?"

"Stella Yamada… what are you up to?"

"We're going to the high school – to visit a couple of old friends."

Mo shrugs, grins, and follows me down the sidewalk. All the way there, the anticipation builds – and I can't wait to see their faces.

I'm about to give 'fate and destiny' a helping hand – not that either really needs it.


	14. Chapter 13

**thirteen**

**the past**

I write… a lot. I have to. It's what keeps me going. I have the last two years of my life, in a laptop, and saved on CDs. I've spent endless hours in what is now my back yard, remembering and typing.

_Destiny…_

For years it's been my nemesis – controlling me in ways I've always felt unfair. Giving and taking as it saw fit, and trying to make me follow a path it laid out for me.

I've spent the last two years fighting my destiny.

Now, once again, in ways the others don't understand, it's taking control.

I knew the moment I saw Mo standing on my porch.

It's around 7:00 PM when Stella answers her phone, and then tells me she's going to the high school to meet Wen. The look on her face tells me she's hoping I'll go with her, but when I only smile at her and nod, she grabs her backpack and disappears out the door.

Unbeknownst to Stella, I make a point of keeping up with what's going on at the high school – mostly because Wen spends most of his free time there.

Tonight, some of the kids he teaches are giving a recital for their parents, and it's supposed to be over at 8:30. I'm fairly certain that Charlie and Mo will turn up as well, and that they'll probably all go out afterward. The four of them have been spending _a lot_ of time together – not that I didn't expect that.

Driven by the same relentless destiny, that is again manipulating all of us, twenty minutes after Stella leaves, so do I.

Thirty minutes later, I'm standing in the dark, listening to the music coming from the music hall behind me, and staring blankly at the back door of the cafeteria in front of me. Within seconds, the tears begin…

It started in a small room under this very building…

The sound of the top of the dumpster behind me slamming shut jerks me right back to reality – and scares the crap out of me. I jump – and yell – as I spin around, tears still trickling down my cheeks.

"Good evening, Olivia. If you're looking for the recital, it's over in the music hall…"

I recognize the voice the moment I hear it.

"_Mr. Ramos?"_

"Who were you expecting?"

"Uh… well… _no one_? It's almost 8:00 at night."

"Got to clean the place sometime, right?" he replies, rolling his now empty trashcan over and stopping next to me.

I'm amazed that he looks exactly like he did the first time I met him – when he caught me reading in one of his janitorial closets – during my freshman year. When I just stand there staring at him, he smiles, turns, and walks over to the door I'm in front of, sticks one of his many keys into the lock and opens it.

"Come on young lady," he says, holding the door open.

"I… uhh… well…"

"Olivia, you aren't standing in front of this particular door by accident. You're here for a reason, and all those tears tell me you need answers only you can find. When you're done, come back out this way. I'll leave the alarm off until 11:00, when I go home."

Not knowing what else to do, and feeling a strong pull from something inside, I force a smile and go in. After about ten steps, I hear the door close behind me, and when I turn to look, find that I'm alone – Mr. Ramos doesn't follow me.

_Destiny_… some many things needing to happen in a specific way.

Without fully realizing what's happening, sixty seconds later, I find myself standing outside a specific door in the basement, slowly running my fingers over the sign on the wall next to it…

'_Detention'._

I reach out, turn the handle, and finding it unlocked, push the door open. It's dark inside, and after finding the switch, I turn on the lights, and let the door close. Since Stella talked Mel into funding the music building, this room has once again become a storage room. Inside, I find five desks (what are the astronomical odds of _that_?), and boxes everywhere. I walk over, and sit down at one of the desks…

"Would I have let them talk me into it, if I'd known what it would eventually cost me?"

I feel the tears – one thing I am _intimately_ familiar with – coming again, as I sit alone, staring at a blank blackboard.

Then a weird thing happens.

I hear music – well, in my head at least…

When I turn and look behind me, I see them – Wendell, Mo, Stella, and Charlie – in the back of the room, playing. Even though I know they aren't real, I get up and walk toward them.

Five ordinary kids, who didn't even know each other, except to pass in the halls of a high school, end up in detention together, and destiny makes sure it's in a room full of musical equipment. In a matter of minutes, solely in the interest of nothing more than fun, we create a catchy little song about our lives and the single thing we share…

_A love of music._

As I stand here, my flashback running in front of me, I hear my voice – and suddenly realize… _I'm singing_…

_So let's mess around  
__Cuz the future is unclear  
__We got nuthin' better to do  
__We're just tryin' to get through_

I smile, and find myself wondering how many of the kids that have _Turn Up The Music_ on their mp3 players, realize it was totally ad-libbed?

Lyrics that turned out to be so powerful and meant so much to so many, were made-up on the fly… by an overly shy, fifteen year old girl, in detention.

When, right in the middle of the chorus, I feel the hand on my shoulder, I almost have a heart attack – and immediately stop singing.

"Took you long enough, Olivia…" I hear from a female voice behind me.

I spin around, and find myself face to face with Ms Reznick, who apparently managed – _in complete silence_ – to sneak in.

"How…?" I mutter, completely confused.

"Victor called me – how do you think, silly?" she replies, smiling at me.

When she quits talking she sits down at a desk next to her, and for thirty seconds, we quietly stare at each other. I finally take a seat next to her, and wipe the tears off my face. Once I'm done, she hands me a large padded envelope she has in her hands.

"What's this?"

"Destiny, Olivia. From the moment Mohini collapsed in Berlin, something told me that a time would come, when I would need it," she replies, nodding at me to indicate she wants me to open it.

I lift the flap on the unsealed end and carefully pull out what turns out to be a framed photograph – of the giant banner Dante hung on top of his pizzeria. Across the bottom is some hand written text…

_We will walk out of this darkness  
__Feel the spotlight glowing like a yellow sun  
__And when we fall, we fall together  
__Till we get back up and we will rise as one_

With something as simple as an old photograph, and lyrics I'd written, Ms Reznick is able to make me understand. Before I know it, I'm sobbing, and gently rubbing the glass covering the photo, hoping beyond hope, that I'll be able to do, what I know I need to do.

"The path each of us must follow on the way to fulfilling our individual destiny is very seldom smooth or uncomplicated. Yours, Olivia, has been far more complicated than most others, because it is, and always has been, part of _the band's_ destiny."

We sit in silence for a few seconds, and I find myself unable to pull my eyes away from the photograph in my hands. Eventually, Ms Reznick makes one last comment.

"_Olivia White_ is – and will always be – the lead singer for Lemonade Mouth. They're waiting on you – the band, _and_ your fans. Stella said it perfectly on TV – _'when you are ready'_ – and the four of them believe that, in their hearts."

With a smile, she stands up, kisses me on the forehead, then turns and goes out the door, as I sit crying, and staring at the photo in my hands.

Ten minutes later, I wander into the music hall through the main doors, still holding the photograph Ms Reznick gave me, scared to death.

I hear voices… but no music. I figure the recital is over, and that my friends are probably straightening things up before they leave. I pull open one of the lobby doors and as I step through into the Hall, I see a handful of kids helping Ms Reznick and Wen put things away on the stage, while six or seven parents wait patiently for them to finish.

Charlie and Mo are sitting in the front row talking to each other, and Stella is standing near the stairs, talking to a kid who is holding a guitar case. I stand quietly for a few seconds, and watch – and enjoy the sensation of seeing the four of them _together_ again…

Then, I hear the kid Stella is talking to ask if she's really the lead guitarist for Lemonade Mouth, and pretty much know what's going to happen next.

I also know it's way past time… for them… _for all of us_ actually.

I hear Charlie laugh, as he stands up, pulls a pair of drumsticks out of his back pocket (some things never change), and gently jabs the kid in the ribs with one of them.

"I'm the drummer!" he says to the kid, and immediately starts a beat with his sticks.

I couldn't stop the huge smile that spreads across my face, even if I wanted to. At this point, they have the undivided attention of _all_ the kids – as well as a few of the parents.

Mo – now also grinning – follows Charlie up the stairs, and two steps short of the top, turns and looks at the same kid.

"You want us to prove it?" she asks, looking him right in the eyes.

Almost immediately, one of the other kids makes a comment about Mo's accent, and her mother playfully cut her off by putting both hands over her mouth.

Stella, now laughing, also climbs the stairs and follows the others onto the stage, as the remaining kids and parents crowd up to the edge and stand watching.

Ms Reznick lets out a loud laugh, and yells, _"Finally!"_

Still, no one has noticed my presence.

Within seconds, they're well into the opening of _Turn Up the Music_, as they laugh and joke among themselves. It's apparent Mo is out of practice as, just before they reach the first stanza, she misses some chords, lets out a laugh, and they all start picking on her. The kids immediately egg them on to try again, which of course they do.

Time for me to do what needs to be done…

When they make it through the intro a second time, without any warning, I open my mouth and just start singing. The acoustics in the Hall are such that I really don't need a microphone…

_Nah nah nah nah nah… nah nah…_

The moment they hear me, every single head turns my direction, the kids all get excited, and their parents start clapping…

_Take a look around  
__Who would'a though we'd all be here_

I start down the aisle in the direction of the stage, and for the first time in over two years, _I sing a Lemonade Mouth song_…

_So let's mess around  
__Cuz the future is unclear_

I totally let my voice – _and my heart_ – go, and the result is full on, _lead singer_, vocals – the way the song is meant to be performed. The way we've performed it hundreds of times…

_We got nuthin' better to do  
__We're just tryin' to get through_

My heart is racing, the tears again begin to fall – but it feels _AWESOME_…

_Can you hear me?  
__Can you hear me?_

Stella and Mo – both in a bit of shock – never miss a beat, and fall in on backup vocals at the first chorus…

_Let music groove you_  
_Let the melody move you…_  
_Feel the beat and just let go_  
_Get the rhythm into your soul…_

When I reach the stairs, I glance at Ms Reznick, and see that she too, has tears in her eyes. I raise my eyebrows, hold up the photograph, and keep right on singing…

Thirty minutes later, standing backstage, I tell the four of them I need to be alone again for a bit. Being the awesome friends they are, they each nod their understanding, hug me, and go back out to put the instruments away. Ms Reznick is last…

"Thank you…" I say, holding out the photo to her.

"You should keep it…" she gets out, before I interrupt her.

"No… _you_ should. That way, no matter where I am, I will always know where it is…" I quickly say, smiling and closing her hand around the frame, "…in case I need another 'nudge'."

I hug her, kiss her on the cheek, and then slip out the back door.

Usually, being out in public (I have a weird fear of being recognized) makes me nervous, and I'm always in a rush to get home.

Not tonight.

The freeing sensation of what happened at the school, has completely engulfed me, and tonight, I just wander around… aimlessly… for more than two hours. I even force myself to stay in populated areas – around _people_…

Everyone I pass smiles, and says things like 'Hi' and 'nice evening', and twice, while standing on corners, I even get whistles from passing cars. I find myself wondering why I let myself slip so far…

I finally make it home around midnight, and find Stella sound asleep on the couch, with the TV on, and the sound muted. I think she was waiting up for me.

Smiling, I pull a light blanket up over her, turn everything off, and go to bed.


	15. Chapter 14

_**fourteen**_

**direction**

When I got up this morning, Stella was nowhere to be found, but the blanket was neatly folded, and lying on the couch. On top of it was a note saying she'd gone to her parent's and would be back later – and if I needed her, to call her cell. At the very bottom was a cute little smilie face, and the words 'WHEN YOU ARE READY' in prefect little block letters.

It made me smile.

It takes just more than hour – and three cups of coffee – before I'm fully awake and able to sort out the jumble of confused emotions, caused by what happened the previous evening.

I get my laptop, my portable Yamaha keyboard, and go to the place I do my best writing – the backyard.

Based on one quick online search, it's apparent that Stella's interview has already stirred things up again. Within hours, Wen received no less than six phone calls from news agencies, and Charlie mentioned that at least three had left messages at the studio. Realizing that most of the music world will now be looking for explanations, I figure I'll just write my part of it down. Once I'm done, they can do with it what they see fit.

This is what I have so far…

_No, contrary to what seems to be popular belief, I'm not crazy._

_Yes, like millions of other people around the world, I have issues._

_Based on the first eighteen years of my life, my issues may go a bit deeper than most other people's._

_Losing my dad was… well… hard – but not in the way you think. Although the formation of Lemonade Mouth, and the friendships that have come from it, prompted me to renew my relationship with him, we simply didn't have enough time. I still have his photo – a really old one – and sometimes I can hear his voice, or what I remember his voice to be, but we were nonetheless, still very much strangers to each other. Everything else aside, I will never forget, he was my dad._

_Losing Grams was different. When Nancy died, Grams was all I had in the world. I know that losing dad, is what killed her. She spent so much time, dreaming about, and planning for, the day he would be free again, the realization that it wasn't ever going to happen, was more than her very old heart could take._

_Maybe… it was God's way of getting them together._

_Anyhow, the moment I saw Mo standing on my porch, I knew it was time. Her unannounced presence told me something was about to change – again. I knew that fate and destiny were sending me a message. _

_Back on tour, losing Mo had been the beginning of my 'slide into oblivion'. First my dad's accident, then three weeks later Mo gets sick. From the moment she collapsed on that stage in Berlin, a deep seeded fear took hold of my heart – the fear that her medical conditions would take her away from us forever. _

_I knew there was no way I could take another person close to me dying. _

_Then, in Madrid, they told me about Grams. _

_Yes, I lost it. Completely. I'm not sure if I was more terrified, or angry._

_So, without any warning, to anyone, I ran home and have been hiding ever since. As long as I stayed isolated in my little world, there wouldn't be anyone to lose – that's what I spent day after day trying to convince myself of. And, although I dearly love Wen, I pushed him away too. I had to._

_I've spent the last year of my life reading, and writing, and trying desperately to understand why… why destiny has chosen to complicate my life the way it has._

_Yes, I have a voice – one that most will say is a gift. Yes, I have a way with words – and can communicate almost anything I want, through verse. I often wonder if having these things – these 'gifts' – is a tradeoff. _

_In order to get, I have to give – almost everything._

_And now, the part of my life that for whatever reason, destiny has so diligently orchestrated, is back. _

_I never wanted to be famous – I swear. I like reading, and more so, writing. I'd be content to publish a book of poetry, or spend my days writing songs that others can sing._

_Thanks Wen…_

_Yeah, that's right. I went through all this for Wendell. For as long as I can remember – like back to maybe the sixth grade – I've had the biggest crush on the guy. Unfortunately, I couldn't find a way to tell him. Well… until that interview on TV – when I opened my mouth to cover Mo. The moment he took my hand, we knew._

_Now I sit here, ready to once again find my way. My heart is telling me that my new path will include the four of them, and hopefully, my 'family' is ready…_

Knowing that music is my best motivation, I power up the keyboard, plug it into the laptop, and launch my editing program. I find the song I want (easily my favorite) and click play. The first few chords send me right to the place I need to be…

I close my eyes, and remember the first time I heard them. Then an image forms…

Mo – headed towards the door in a huff. Charlie – backpack over his shoulder, drumsticks in hand, looking confused and unsure. And of course, Stella – sitting on a box, head hanging, guitar in hand, looking frustrated and depressed.

One day, after the insanity our lives quickly became, we all agreed that those nine simple notes, probably saved Lemonade Mouth. In a matter of seconds – the time it takes a heart to beat three or four times – we went from being five individuals, to being a _band_…

Wen's intro started the machine, but the moment I heard Charlie jump in on his drums, the rhythm he created pushed a button in me, and I knew I had the perfect lyrics – words quickly scrawled in a notebook, during an afternoon assembly in the gym.

All I needed to make it work was for _all four of them_ to come together, for just a couple of minutes, and give me the music…

That day in the detention room – our first real 'rehearsal' – was the day I stepped up and became a 'front-man'. It was the day I truly began to believe that _we could be a band_…

The song is in the second stanza before I realize I'm once again singing – which makes me smile. I reach down, reset the song, and after a bit of manipulation, remove the track that contains the lead vocals. I hit play again, and for the second time in as many days, I sing a Lemonade Mouth song – and give it everything I have…


	16. Chapter 15

**_fifteen_**

**intervention**

I'm so caught up in what I'm doing, I never hear them. Somehow, they actually manage to sneak in through my back gate. It's Mo's giggling that breaks my concentration. Halfway through the last stanza, I stop, spin around on the grass, and am met by about twenty smiling faces, and a really loud round of applause, and whistling.

Without a word, Wen steps over and holds out his hand to me.

This is the next pivotal moment in my life. In that instant I decide I'm finished hiding… finished avoiding. I reach over, close the laptop, power down the keyboard, and then take his hand. He pulls me to my feet, and with the crowd of onlookers watching, puts a microphone in my hand. I stand for a moment lost in thought, contemplating what it means. As I close my hand around it, I realize it feels… well… _right_. It's meant to be there…

I feel myself smile, and when I look up, I see that my band mates all have the exact same mic in their hands, and some seriously sinister smiles on their faces.

"Come on, Olivia, we have a little task to complete," Stella says, taking my free hand and leading me toward the gate, causing the crowd to part enough for us to get through, "and it's going to take all five of us to do it."

"And 'no' isn't an option this time," I hear Mo say behind me, in her now quite British accent.

We pile into Charlie's BMW, and watch as he closes and locks the gate, before getting in behind the wheel. At the end of the alley, just as Charlie turns onto the pavement, I glance over my shoulder and out the back window.

"And who were they?" I ask, pointing at the now dispersing crowd.

"_Fans,_" Stella replies, laughing. "Heck, _we _heard you when we made the turn into the alley."

"They were crowded around the gate and I had to push my way through them to unlock it," Wen offers, also laughing.

"Like it or not," Mo adds, "when _you_ sing, people notice."

No one says anything else, the rest of the trip. I do notice that Wen never once lets go of my hand.

The sun is dropping behind the mountains, as we pull into the packed parking lot of 'The Pit' – UNM's basketball arena – at the southern end of the campus, twenty minutes later. Wendell must sense my nervousness, because he leans over and whispers in my ear.

"Relax. You're going to get a kick out of this… trust me."

When security stops us, Charlie hands him something and with a smile, he waves us through. As we pull into what is undoubtedly a reserved spot, I see the huge sign hanging over the arena entrance. Even though I have no idea what's going on, it makes me laugh.

The moment Mo opens her door, I hear the music… and my heart races.

Standing in a tight circle next to the SUV, we watch as people hurriedly pass us, heading for the arena entrance. I find it interesting that none of them seems to recognize us – or perhaps it's just that their attention is on the live music being played inside.

"Okay," Wen says, pulling his mic from his pocket and holding it up "these are on the same frequency as the ones our arch nemeses are using. You guys remember Dante's, right?"

We – me included – break up in almost hysterical laughter, loud enough that at least a few of the passing Mudslide Crush fans, slow to look at us.

"Tonight, my fellow disruptors, we exact some revenge."

"_Wen Gifford!_" I blurt out, trying desperately not to laugh again. "We _are not_ going to go in there and purposely mess up their show."

Again, everyone laughs, and I realized at that very moment, that for the first time since my grandmother died, I truly feel like myself again. I am, if only for a few seconds, _Olivia White – front-man for Lemonade Mouth_.

"Yeah… maybe not. But they _are_ going to know, we came to their show!" Wen retorts.

He spends ten minutes explaining the plan, making sure we understand. Fifteen minutes after that, having entered the building separately, we're all in position, mingling with the crowd, within feet of the stage.

What I don't know, that everyone else does, is that Scott and Ray are willing participants in what is about to happen.


	17. Chapter 16

**_sixteen_**

**stella's plan**

My intention is to let the world see us all together again. Once we're discovered in the crowd, Ray and Scott ask us up on stage, we apologize for messing with their performance, and joke about it being retribution for the mayhem Ray caused at Dante's, years ago. Then we quietly disappear, and let them continue their show.

Thanks to Ray and Scott, my plan works far better than I ever imagined. Tonight in Wells Fargo Arena, will prove to be the second pivotal moment in Lemonade Mouth's history. With one simple gesture, Ray Beech – the guy who did everything he could to destroy us, a few years earlier – brings us back.

Apparently, and unbeknownst to me, Ray and Scott have a completely different idea of how things are going to go. And to be honest with you, I'm in awe of them for coming up with it.

As a group, Mudslide Crush has changed – both their style and lyrics. They aren't pompous high school jocks any longer, but are instead, a really good rock band, that sings about the trials and tribulations of everyday life. Scott drew from his experiences while traveling with us for a year, to write a couple of touching ballads, as well as a number of loud, brain-mangling songs, that fit the image of 'the Crush'. And Ray, in his signature head-banging style, delivers each song flawlessly. No matter what else one says about Ray Beech, the one undeniable fact is, the guy can sing.

I'm standing at the far right of the stage, and staggered at distances of a few feet are Charlie, Olivia, Wen, and Mo. By design, Olivia ends up center-stage. The guys finish their first song, and as Ray is about to announce the next one, Scott interrupts him.

"One sec, Ray… I have a question for the audience," Scott says, as Ray hands him the mic. "So people, for about a week now, I've had a weird urge to play some of our old stuff – the stuff we did back in high school. Some of you might remember it…"

The crowd starts cheering and whistling.

"Would you guys have a problem with that?"

This time, the place totally erupts in screams, whistles, and stomping.

Ray laughs, Scott yells _"OH YEAH!"_ into the mic, and then tosses it back to Ray, who immediately points at Raul, the bass player. Instantly the entire arena goes dark and within seconds, is filled with the opening chords of _And The Crowd Goes_.

My pulse doubles.

First, Ray's booming voice fills the darkness…

_Who's that tryin' to talk to me?  
__Standin' over there lookin' like a wanna be…_

Then, a single spotlight pierces the darkness and illuminates Ray, as he continues the song. Before you know it, the place is aglow with the light of a thousand green glow-sticks, bobbing in perfect unison to the beat. When Ray reaches the chorus, the five of us turn on our mics, and make our presence known.

The lights come up on the stage, and as Ray sings "And the crowd goes…" right on cue, five extra, amplified voices all answer _"OH OH OH OH OH OH OH - OH OH OH OH!"_

Feigning a look of total shock, then looking at Scott and raising his hands as of if to say 'what's going on', Ray never misses a beat and continues the chorus with a second "And the crowd goes…" which is immediately answered with the same, amplified _"OH OH OH OH OH OH OH - OH OH OH OH!"_

While Ray continues into the next verse, Scott and Raul move to the edge of the stage and stand there, as if looking for something… _or someone_. When Ray reaches the chorus the second time, he gets the same response – with one small change. Having been discovered by the crowd, both Olivia – who is now laughing like a fool – and Mo, have enlisted the help of the fans around them, and with twenty or so people all singing the chorus together, the amplified sound is almost deafening.

When Ray starts the last verse, Olivia puts a finger to her lips, and astonishingly, _everyone_ around her goes silent, and lets Ray – who is now at the very edge of the stage, only feet from her – finish the song.

When they reach the last chorus that ends the song, Ray holds out his mic to indicate they want the crowd to sing, and when Ray counts down 'four-three-two-one' not only do all the lights go out, but amazingly, _every single person stops singing, and every single glow-stick stops moving, at the exact same moment_, leaving nothing but a bizarre green glow, and a very weird, echoed silence, for about ten seconds.

I'm standing in the dark, goose bumps covering most of my body, and through all the cheering and screaming that starts around me, I hear only one thing…

Olivia White… _laughing_.


	18. Chapter 17

_**seventeen**_

**ray's plan**

When Stella told us what she'd done, we were ecstatic – even Mo.

It's time – and we know it. We just need to convince Olivia of that.

While Scott and Ray showing up at my house, the morning of their show, isn't a big deal, what they want is close to 'off the chart weird' – more so, because it's actually _Ray's_ idea.

As Olivia likes to say – _fate and destiny_.

Anyhow, they agree that getting the five of us on stage together will definitely be a step in the right direction, but Ray _insists_ we need to perform – at least one song.

Standing in my kitchen, only inches from me, Ray locks eyes with me…

"If you guys get up there, and then walk off without getting her to sing, it will be the dumbest thing you have ever done as a group – and you know it, Wen."

The deep, and total sincerity in his voice, reaches all the way to my core.

"When Stella came to you guys, it wasn't about messing up or hijacking…"

"Wen, that's crap, and you know it," Scott interjects. "This is about way more than 'our show'. This is about Olivia. _All of you, in the same place at the same time?"_

He pauses, and holds my gaze for a few seconds.

"_Come on man_ – you have to go for this, there just isn't any other choice…"

I stand here, watching the two of them bang fists and wink at each other, definitely a bit perplexed. Although I have no idea what they're up to, I know it isn't in any way devious or obnoxious. Their concern for Olivia is indeed, sincere.

"Okay… so I can tell you two have some kind of plan. What do I need to do?"

"We don't have keyboards," Ray says, "so give us your Roland AX, we'll make sure it's amped, and stash it on stage. Once we get all of you up there, Raul will tell you where it is, and while I keep Olivia occupied, you can set up. Charlie, Stella and Mo can use our gear."

"We'll give you guys the stage," Scott adds, putting a hand on my shoulder, "and no matter what, Wendell, _you've got to get her to sing_… at least one song. If she leaves that stage without singing… well…"

I knew exactly what he meant.

Now, eight hours later, here I am, standing in front of the stage, watching Olivia in a crowd of Mudslide Crush fans, laughing almost hysterically – something I honestly wondered if I would ever see again. The sound of the cheering crowd is finally broken by the amplified voice of Ray Beech…

"YO-YO Crush fans! I think I've discovered the source of our unexpected backup singers – right here in front of the stage. And thanks to all of you! I don't think I've ever heard that song performed quite like that before."

Then we hear Scott's voice, and as I stand here watching, it dawns on me that, what once were our two biggest problems, have now become our saviors.

"You two," Scott says, with total force and conviction while pointing at Mo with one hand, and Olivia with the other, "need to come up here right now." The moment he points, spotlights go right to the girls.

"And, considering we _all_ grew up here, I'm betting the other three culprits are out there somewhere too!" Ray adds.

Even as Ray is talking, more spots start scanning the crowd, and according to Stella's plan, we all start moving toward center stage. The moment I'm close enough, although she's still smiling, I can see the panic and fear covering Olivia's face. She looks just like she did when she came out of that bathroom stall, the night of the Halloween Bash…

"Well?" Ray says, as we all converge at the stairs leading to the stage.

The five us stand there – four staring at Olivia, and her staring back at us.

Then we hear Scott's voice boom out.

"I can't believe that the infamous _Lemonade Mouth_ is afraid of a little stage time! Yep, that's right – they're here people. The five _original_ members of Lemonade Mouth are standing right there, at the bottom of the stairs."

Scott Pickett is a genius. Having spent close to a year as member of our band, he carefully watched and noted each time a manager, technician, or roadie, would do something that would push one of Olivia's buttons. Even though she once told me that 'perfect was over rated', when it came to our live shows, she always demanded it. And now, Scott's attention has paid off – big time. Of the many buttons Olivia seems to have, he just picked the perfect one to push. The moment her facial expression changes – the fear and panic being replaced by the controlled irritation we saw many a time on tour – we realize that Stella's plan is about to become reality.

Without saying anything, Olivia lays her mic on the steps, turns, and almost stomps up onto the stage, continuing across it until she is face to face with Ray. Without as much as a word to him, she takes the mic he's holding, turns it on, and with the most devious sneer I have ever seen on the girl, looks him in the eyes, and very calmly says, "Hello, _Raymond_…"

Immediately the crowd is full of whistles, sneers, and jeers. With just two words, Olivia pulls the crowd into what's about to happen.

Olivia turns, walks directly over to Scott and, with the mic still on, lets him have it… playfully of course.

"Scott Pickett, I am shocked! _You of all people_ should realize that, while _we_ may not have a lot of recent 'stage time', the very last thing that Lemonade Mouth would be afraid of, would be sharing a stage with Mudslide Crush…"

Yeah… Scott blushes… _bright red!_

It's by far, the most magical thing I've ever seen. In one single instant, Olivia White emerges from whatever has been gripping her for the last year, and in front of 5000 people, just as she did so many times on tour, takes control of a stage. It may be Mudslide Crush's show, but at this exact moment, _the stage belongs to Olivia White_ – without question. The eruption of applause, screaming, and stomping that follows Olivia's comment, almost makes the building shake. Even the bands that opened the show come out to see what is going on.

As we start up the stairs, Olivia turns off the mic, stands on her tiptoes and in front of the entire arena, kisses Scott on the cheek. She whispers something to him, he nods and hugs her, and then she turns around, walks back across the stage to Ray, stops facing him, and hands him the mic.

"Okay… okay…" Ray says, trying to bring the sound level in the building down, so that he can be heard. "You are seeing the _original members_ of Lemonade Mouth, _on a stage together_, for the first time in… well, let's just call it forever, shall we?"

Then he turns to Olivia, and asks, "So… want to tell us why?"

Olivia glances at us, grins, then again takes Ray's mic and says, "Retribution, Ray. I'm sure you remember a certain night at Dante's…" as calmly as you please.

We do our best not to laugh… but… well, it doesn't work out. Once Mo starts giggling, Stella follows, and in seconds we're all – the crowd included – full on laughing, as Olivia holds out the mic, and Ray takes it back.

"Yeah, well, I do still owe you an apology for that one. Better late, than never, right?"

This time, instead of taking the mic, Olivia, who's on the verge of laughter herself, pulls Ray's hand over, mic and all.

"Apology accepted. We're even now."

More applause and whistling.

As Ray turns to face the crowd, I take a step back, hoping Olivia won't notice, and go to get my keyboard.

"So… as long as we have them here," Ray says, as the lighting guys bring up the house lights, and started scanning the crowd with spots again – in an effort to hold Olivia's attention, "should we get them to play? At least one song…?"

Once again, the place erupts.

Ray turns back to face the others, and although looking right at Olivia, he asks all of them, "You guys up to that?"

Stella – who, along with Mo and Charlie – isn't expecting this, flips on the mic she's still holding, and in almost a whisper, says, "You'll have to ask our lead singer…"

It gets so eerily quiet, you'd think the place was empty.

Then, through the momentary silence, those of us onstage, hear someone softly crying. Ray, being one step ahead of the rest of us, realizes that it's Olivia, and he does what very well might be the coolest thing he's ever done. With a big grin, he steps right up to her, and as the silent crowd watches, switches off his mic, puts it in her hand, and carefully closes her fingers around it. Then, as if we're all back in the cafeteria at Mesa High, everyone on stage hears him say, in just above a whisper, _"You're the lead singer of the new band, right? How about you just belt one out for us…"_

After hesitating for only a second, Olivia puts a hand on his cheek, and kisses him too. The instant it happens, I know…

I adjust the keyboard, and when the lights go out again, I start playing. Even though the Roland has lighted keys, I don't need to see… I know the chords by heart, and simply let my fingers go. It takes three times through the intro – during which time, the others get into position – but eventually, Olivia's voice – smooth, powerful, and amazingly perfect – fills the dark arena.

_Tryin' hard to fight these tears…  
__I'm crazy worried_

A single spotlight comes on – directly on Olivia, who is now sitting alone at the top of the stairs we came up, circled by a bunch of fans.

_Messin' with my head, this fear…  
__I'm so sorry…_

In seconds, the place is again glowing green – hundreds of light sticks slowly moving from side to side.

_You know ya gotta get it out…  
__I can't take it  
__That's what bein' friends about…._

The lights go out again, and the moment Stella strikes the first chord on Scott's guitar… after well over a year and a half, and all the discouraging things we've endured as band, and as individuals, we are once again – _in that exact moment_ – those five kids from detention…

_We are Lemonade Mouth._

And let me tell you… Olivia's performance leaves no doubt we are back.


	19. Chapter 18

_**eighteen**_

**recovery**

We play just that one song – our 'signature' song. It makes me remember how awesome performing in front of a real audience feels.

Having quickly escaped the building, the five of us are standing in the parking lot next to Charlie's SUV, listening as Scott and Ray finish their set. The four pairs of eyes, silently staring at me, tell me they all have the same question burning behind them. But, being the awesome friends they are, not one of them asks. Wendell, however, has a comment…

"So…" he says, breaking the silence, "apparently you _have_ been exercising those vocal chords…"

Everyone – including me – instantly breaks out in laughter, as I step over and wrap my arms around him. Once we break the embrace, I turn and face the others.

"Thank you – _all of you_."

They each take a turn hugging me, and when they're finished, I turn and give Wen a kiss.

"I'm gonna walk home guys…"

It takes me close to three minutes and a good bit of insistence, to convince my friends that I'll be okay walking home. I tell them I need to slow down physically, and let my brain catch up with my heart, and that I need to be alone to do it. Mo asks if she can come with me, but we can see that just the one performance, has taken a lot out of her, so I tell her no. Stella saves me by quickly suggesting they take Mo to her parent's house, so she can rest and wind down too, and the guys instantly agree. After some quick goodbyes, with a big smile, I head off across the campus.

When Ray, with what looked like real tears in his eyes, stepped up to me on that stage, handed me his mic, and said, "You're the lead singer of the new band, right? How about you just belt one out for us…" I knew it was destiny slapping me in the face, and using Ray to do it. It made me flash back… to the cafeteria… so long ago… and remember that Olivia.

In that single moment of time, all the walls – every single one of them – that surrounded me for over a year, simply collapsed. I was ready to be onstage again…

The moment the lights went out and I heard Wen's keyboard, _I was ready to sing again_.

More importantly, I actually _wanted_ to.

It will take me about an hour to walk the two and a half miles home, which is cool. I'm in no hurry, and the truth is, I need to be alone after that rush of intensity.

The amazingly good mood I'm in bursts out when I see the bench at the bus stop. For no particular reason, the moment I'm close enough, I jump up on it and, without care one to who might be watching, jump up and down three times, and do 'the slide' across it, giggling the whole time. At the opposite end, I jump off, and continue my journey.

I figure the whole 'performance' thing was a set up for my benefit, but had no idea how deep it went until, in the shadowy darkness of the stage, I saw Scott _give_ Stella his guitar, and Raul give his to Mo. I turned around, tears still trickling down my face, just in time to see Wen, his Roland strung around his neck, start the intro. This was important enough, that the four of them were willing to put themselves on the spot, in front of an arena full of people, with nothing but the _hope_ I would sing…

They are… the four most amazing people I know.

I walked over, sat down on the stairs, contemplating what was about to happen, realizing that I _wanted_ it to.

I purposely waited until the others were ready before I started singing. It was strange hearing my amplified voice again, as I sang the intro – seven lines that once again, carried so much meaning.

I wait for the light at the next intersection, and as I cross the street, I stop – for no particular reason – and start waving at people sitting in their cars at the light. Once I have them all waving and laughing, I continue across, and on the other side, turn and head the direction I need to go – still laughing like a fool.

Back at the show, my recovery was complete the instant Stella struck the first chords on Scott's guitar, and by the time I reached the first chorus, she, Mo, and I, were jumping up and down and doing our infamous 'slide' – for like the millionth time. By the second chorus, we were in sync… and the entire arena erupted. In a matter of seconds, _everyone_ within thirty feet of the stage was jumping and sliding in unison with us.

It was _**awesome**__**!**_

And… I cried through the whole song.

At the next intersection, I grab the street sign, and walk around it three times, going on and off the curb each time. A group college students waiting to cross on the opposite side, break out laughing, and begin egging me on. Once I'm done entertaining them, I make a left and head down the street I know will take me home.

At the beginning of the next block, still feeling very goofy, I go to the edge of the sidewalk, and start walking down the curb with one foot, and in the gutter with the other. Some kids getting out of their mother's car in their driveway see me, run down and begin following my silly antics – all the way to the next corner. Finally, when their mother calls them back, they all wave at me and yell goodbye. I cross the street and continue toward the house.

In the middle of the next block – which is where my house is – I turn down the alley. Because it sounds like a good idea at the moment – and totally fits my mood – I turn around and start walking backwards. Just short of the gate into my backyard, I hear a male voice – which I recognize – yell at me from a second floor window, of the house next door.

"Maybe they're right, Olivia – maybe you ARE crazy!" the voice calls out, immediately following the comment with laughter.

"Of course they are, Mr. Warner – of course they are!" I yell back.

I continue walking backwards – just because – until I reach the gate, then pull out my keys, and unlock it. On my way through the backyard, I pick up the laptop and the keyboard, and head for the basement.

At the bottom of the stairs, I flip on the lights, and as I walk across the room, I touch each piece of equipment as I pass it.

A Yamaha DGX 230 keyboard – just like Wen's, an old Spring Hill acoustic guitar that I learned on, a beautiful Ibanez AC240 that the band gave me on my birthday, and my grandmother's very old Monarch Upright Piano that I had restored, so I could use it.

Once I have the Yamaha safely in its case, I sit down at the computer I spent the better part of the last year in front of – writing – and as I stare at it, I smile. I turn and roll the few feet to the large book case, and pull out one of the twenty-five or so, three inch binders filling it, and just flip it open. I read what's on the page, and immediately remember writing it.

I saved it all – every single lyric I've written in the last fourteen months, and most of the music as well. I'm not sure why, but something kept telling me I was going to need it all.

"I bet they all freak when I show them the basement," I mumble to Jasper, when she jumps up into my lap.

I plug the laptop in so it will charge, then open it up and save what I was working on earlier. Once it powers down, I pick up Jasper and go back upstairs, turning the lights off as I leave.

It's been an exhausting day – the first one I've had in forever – and it feels really good. I stop at the stairs, and look at a photo of me and Grams that's hanging on the wall, and with a smile say, "I think I've finally found my way, Grams…"

I'm asleep within minutes of hitting my bed.


	20. Chapter 19

_**nineteen**_

**being ready**

We meet for breakfast the next morning – me, Wen, Charlie and Mo. We're wound tight – performing together again, pumped us up. Fact is, we want more – even Mo – who struggled through all the dancing.

But the reality of it is, without our front-man, Lemonade Mouth will never be again. We all agree on that. None of us is interested in Lemonade Mouth with a new singer, and starting a new band isn't a consideration for any of us.

If Olivia isn't ready, the world will have to wait until she is – no matter how long that takes.

None of us want to press Olivia. Heck, we saw how last night affected her. We know it took everything she had, to pull off such a monster spur-of-the-moment performance, and for now, that's enough for us.

But… we can always hope.

Just about the time we finish eating, Janet – a girl from our days at Mesa High – comes rushing up to the table, almost out of breath. In her hands is a Sony S1 tablet, with a video running on it.

"_You guys have got to see this!"_ she yells, handing me the device, which I lean up against the napkin holder at the end of the table.

The video is of us… the previous night… at the arena. It's a very rough video, and was probably shot with a cell phone. But there, in the middle of the image, is Olivia, jumping up and down and belting out _Determinate_, as if it's just another day at the office. After a few seconds, the image is interrupted by a local TV reporter.

"_Yes, music fans, the rumors are true. Last night, what many in the music world thought impossible, did actually happen. During a show at The Pit, for the first time since losing their bass player in the middle of a performance in Berlin…"_

Someone changes the channel on a giant plasma TV at the end of the room, and everyone in the restaurant – including us – turns their attention to it.

"… _the five original members of music sensation Lemonade Mouth not only turned up on stage together, but even took the time to play their first hit, Determinate, for over 5000 screaming fans, who had no idea what was going on. Armed with a notebook full of question, this reporter has tried to find even one of the band members – most of whom have family in the local area – to no avail. So, to the members of Lemonade Mouth we send this message – tell us guys, tell your fans – are you back?" _

"Oh jezzz…" Charlie mutters.

"No kidding…" I add.

"Thanks, Janet," Wen says, handing her the tablet.

The look in her eyes tells us that she too, wants to know… she wants an answer to the question the TV reporter asked. Mo gives her the only answer we have.

"We don't know, Janet… honest. At this point, we have to wait and see…"

She smiles, then turns and walks off. Seconds later, our waitress walks up, with the manager close behind.

"Hey guys! Ross," she says, pointing behind her, "says breakfast is on him."

"And…" Ross quickly adds, "you guys need to bail – fast. A friend of mine down at the Journal called and said word is out that you guys are here, and half the Albuquerque press corps is about to swoop down on this place."

He looks right at Wen, tosses him a set of keys, and says, "Take my Explorer – it's in the back lot. I'll pick it up from your dad's house later."

"Crap!" I blurt out. "We've got to get to Olivia's before they do. She'll freak…"

Twenty minutes later, we pull up in the alley behind Olivia's house, and stop next to the gate. Wen produces the key, opens the gate, and once inside, we're astounded to find Olivia sitting on the grass under the big tree, strumming the acoustic guitar we gave her for her birthday, looking as if she's _expecting _us.

"I'm ready," she says, offering the guitar to me.

We stand staring at her, totally lost in the shock of the moment, none of us sure what to say or do.

"Stella… you did say when I was ready, right?"

"Olivia… we have a problem…" I start to say, as I take the guitar.

"The press is only a problem if _we_ let them become one. Now come on, you guys owe me a song."

We glance at each other, then laugh – only because we don't know what else to do. We're worried about Olivia, and now it seems, she isn't worried about anything – not even the press.

Mo sits down on the grass next to her, Wen on the other side of her, and Charlie sits down facing them. I take a seat on the bench around the tree, and on a beautiful summer morning, for only the third time in recorded history, _Lemonade Mouth_ performs _More Than A Band_ – for an audience of one.

Jasper the cat.


	21. Chapter 20

_**twenty**_

**freaked out**

The four of them silently follow me down the stairs to the basement, acting as if they expect to find something from one those horror movies at the bottom. It's actually rather comical.

When we reach the studio, I flip on the power and step aside so they can all see.

I'm right… they freak. I have to force myself not to laugh.

"_Oh my god…"_ Mo mumbles, which is quickly followed by "NO WAY!" from Wen, who goes immediately to the keyboard.

"The guitar goes over there, Stella," I say, pointing at an empty stand next to my other guitar.

Stella looks like a deer in headlights – pardon the pun – as she crosses the room and carefully places the Ibanez in the stand. When she looks at the mixing board mounted against the far wall, it's as if she understands.

"This looks scarily familiar," she says, powering it up.

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Charlie adds, walking up behind her.

"It should – it's a smaller version of the setup you guys have."

They both spin around at the same moment and look at me.

"Oh come on guys – I withdrew for a while. That doesn't make me crazy – which, according to a lot of what I read, is the general consensus," I say, smiling and taking a seat on a stool next to me. "When I heard what you two were up to, I called around and found out who was doing your work – which I should add, wasn't all that difficult. I told them I needed something with the same capabilities, but smaller."

They stand staring at me, while at the same time, Wen picks up Jasper and walks over next to me.

"This," I add, waving my arms, "is what I got."

"Why?" Wen asks, putting Jasper in my lap.

That's when Mo joins the conversation.

"She's been _writing_…"

First I hear pages being turned behind me, and know she's looking at the binder I left open on the desk. Then we hear the sound of a binder being slid out of the cabinet. Seconds later, after more page turning, I turn and look just in time to see her pull out a third binder and lay it on the desk between the others. As I watch, Charlie, Stella, and Wen pass me, and join Mo at the desk.

"_Olivia…_" I hear Mo say, with an almost incredulous tone, "_are all of these full?"_

"Pretty close. A lot if it's just useless stuff… the confused ramblings of a _'crazy'_ teenager, late at night…"

They all laugh, and roll their eyes.

"I had a lot of stuff I needed to get out of my head…" I pause, glance at Wendell, and smile, "And... out of my heart, too. But, I'm willing to bet that, between the five of us, we can find enough in there to make a record…"

One at a time, they straighten up, look first at each other – as if to be sure they heard what they think they did – and then turn to face me.

"_A record?"_ Stella asks, just above a whisper.

"Yeah…" I reply, looking right at her, "if you guys can find the time and if, as Ray put it, 'you guys are up to it'…"

Almost instantly, big smiles cover every one of their faces, and the magic twinkle that fills their eyes every time we play together, returns. My heart almost swells out of my chest, just watching it.

Fighting the urge to cry, I turn and look at Mo.

"How much of this can you _really_ take? We _all_ saw you using your inhaler onstage…"

Mo smiles, steps over and first gives Jasper a good scratch behind the ears, then takes both my hands in hers.

"The studio stuff, I can handle. If the plan is to be onstage again regularly, I'll need time to get myself in shape. Playing in the orchestra is simple, no effort stuff. Last night reminded me of what it is _Lemonade Mouth _does. I won't try that again until I'm ready – until the doctor says I'm ready. In fact, it's the doctors who keep saying my daily activities are 'not restricted or controlled', so give me a month, and we'll test their theory."

I smile, and gently squeeze her hands.

"We _needed_ last night, Olivia – _all of us_ – which is why I did it. You guys need to know what you're dealing with this time – which is why I broke out the inhaler. I mean, seriously – like we could perform _Determinate_ without the 'slide'?"

Everyone laughs.

"And… _no matter what the situation, _Mo,_ you tell us_ when you need to stop – right?" Wen quickly asks.

"_Absolutely!"_ Mo replies.

Then Stella, who's been quietly turning pages in one of the binders, straightens up and turns to face me.

"So… are we a band again?" she asks, so softly we barely hear her.

I let go of Mo's hands, hand Jasper to her, slide off the stool, take Stella's hands, and watch her eyes glass over and the tears build in them.

"Stella… we never _stopped_ being a band. I just needed some time to dwell on the fact we've always been _far more than a band_…"

In seconds, she and I are crying like fools…


	22. Chapter 21

_**twenty-one**_

**creating**

It takes the four of them three days to sift through all the binders in my basement – at one point, they have at least half of them lying open, covering pretty much the entire room. Eventually they come up with twelve songs they want to record right away, and nine others they want to 'work on'.

I find it interesting that, although Stella and Charlie have a state-of-the-art studio, less than 800 miles away, they chose to stay and work in my basement. Wen – with the help of some of the kids from school – 'borrowed' some instruments, and after five weeks, of fourteen hour days, I have to admit that, between the five of us, we do manage to create what sound like Lemonade Mouth songs.

Seeing the intensity the four of them exhibit, as we create Lemonade Mouth's second record, makes me feel just a bit guilty. I know it's me – and my problems – that took this away from them. But now, that's over.

Fate and destiny have taken as much from me as they can, and I now realize that _the band _– not my 'gifts' – is the trade-off.

These four very special people will, for the extended future, be my life and family.

At dinner one evening, we listen as Wen's dad explains what's going to happen when we tell the record company we're ready to go back to work. Fortunately, Mr. Gifford's background in construction and investing makes him an excellent advisor in things like contracts.

Anyhow, although – thanks again to Mr. Gifford – we as a group, own the name Lemonade Mouth, if we ever record under the name again, the record company gets dibs on the first two records. Heck, considering we pretty much self-destructed in the middle of a tour they financed, we figure we owe them _at least_ that much.

Even though Mr. Gifford urges us – based on our contract – to tell the record company what we plan to do, before we tell anyone else, we have a different idea. Instead of 'following protocol' and 'asking permission' before talking to the press, we send the demo we made in my basement, directly to the company's production manager in a plain brown envelope, with a handwritten note that says, _'yeah… we're back'_ with five signatures under it.

Kids… what are ya gonna do?


	23. Chapter 22

_**twenty-two**_

**completion**

Six weeks to the day after she spilled her – or actually _our_ – guts on her show, Stella calls Moxie Morris. Again. This time, from my kitchen.

"I need to borrow your show again, Moxie. You up for that?"

"What do you mean, 'borrow my show'?"

"Say yes, and you'll find out," Stella replies, as the rest of us laugh.

"When?"

"When is the soonest you can do a live show?"

"Probably Friday. We have a taped two-parter that has to run back-to-back, and a previously scheduled live show on Thursday. We can reschedule Friday's taped show, and go live just like last time. Is that the plan?"

"Only if you say it is. It is _your_ show…"

"Stella… I have a very weird feeling about this."

"Good, so it's a date?"

"Like I would say 'no'? I'll set it up. Where are you going to be staying? The studio will send a car for you."

"Not necessary. We can get to the studio on our own."

"_We?"_

"Yeah, Moxie… we. _Lemonade Mouth_. See you sometime Thursday."

Stella disconnects before Moxie can reply, making Wen, Mo – who has moved in with me – and Charlie, all crack up.

"This is going to be too cool," Charlie offers.

Wen, who's reading a text message, looks up from his phone and says, "The promoter sent you a counter offer, Olivia. They'll reschedule the six cancelled shows, make them open seating, but at $16 a ticket – instead of the $12 you asked for – until each venue is sold out. They want to work with us, but say they have to at least break even. They mentioned that if we manage to pull off multiple shows at even one location, we might make…"

"Not important," Stella blurts out, right in the middle of Wen's sentence. "What _is_ important is that we clean up our reputation."

Everyone nods their agreement.

"In return…" Wen continues, standing up and walking over next to me, stopping and holding his phone where I can read the screen.

"We agree to use them to promote our next tour, assuming there is going to be one," I finish, glancing at Wendell, then looking at the rest of them.

"Seems more than fair," Mo offers.

"You certain you're up to this, Mo?" I ask, turning to look at her.

"As long as it isn't six shows in six nights, I can do it," she instantly replies.

"Well then, it looks like _Lemonade Mouth_ is going to _finish_ its first world tour after all," I say, smiling at all of them. "Charlie, call Richard and tell him to load the equipment – we're back in business."

I stick out my hand, and after two years, the five _original_ members of Lemonade Mouth, do their secret backstage handshake.

And, of course, we break up laughing.


	24. Chapter 23

_**twenty-three**_

**the return**

Moxie's show does what we intend – lets the world know we're ready to try again.

The same day I called Moxie, the promoter and our record company leaked word that, not only are we back together, but we intend to make good on the cancelled shows. By the time we make it to Moxie's show, five days later, four of the venues have already requested second shows.

Like I told Moxie during our last interview, _Lemonade Mouth fans are the best!_

We end up taking a number of on-air calls from fans, most of them wanting to know when, and if, we'll be recording new songs.

The answer to that is simple. Once Richard listened to the demo we sent him, he pretty much freaked out, and immediately scheduled studio time for us to record the masters. Based on his time schedule, in about four months – the amount of time we expect it will take us to do the rescheduled shows – the record company will be releasing our first new single, for digital download. And, based solely on Olivia's staunch, and unwavering insistence, they even agree to make it FREE!

Before we leave, and without any warning to Moxie, we offer to perform the song that will be the first release, for her studio audience. The response amazes all of us.

All in all, it turns into an awesome day, and seeing Olivia and Mo, back to being themselves, makes it that much better.

_Lemonade Mouth is indeed, back._


	25. Chapter 24

_**twenty-four**_

**revolution**

"_Hey Olivia! Whacha doin'?"_ Georgie asks, as she races across my kitchen, sliding to a stop next to me. Seconds later, Wen comes in behind her.

"Checking Billboard to see where our CD is this week."

She steps up to the table, and slowly runs her finger down the monitor of my laptop, stopping when she reaches the number '3' on the left side of the list – which is next to the title _'Lemonade Mouth – The Next Revolution Begins'_.

"Number _three_? Oh come on… what do _they_ know?" she blurts out, making Wen and me laugh.

"Well, not as much as you apparently," Wen offers, poking her gently in the ribs.

"Well… over at my school, Lemonade Mouth is NUMBER ONE!" she yells, spinning around and first hugging her brother, then hugging me.

So, as Stella once asked her mom… in a police station lobby…

_**You want to come see our revolution?**_

* * *

_**Journeys End** _is soon to follow - I'm working on formatting it!

Mike


End file.
